


Lady Magdalena's Lace

by atqi



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atqi/pseuds/atqi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't see how that's any of my business." Krem replied, then grunted and raised his bottle to his lips.</p><p>"Ooh, you know she's not here, he reached his mouth this time." Dalish crowed, and Krem scowled.</p><p>"That happened once." He protested, and Grimm let out what could only be described as- well, a noise. But a disbelieving one.</p><p>Fill for the DA kmeme, prompt is here: http://tinyurl.com/ltqe4zm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady Magdalena's Lace

"Her name is Magdalena d'Aumont." Dalish was positively tickled pink to be relaying that piece of information. Her mail clinked against the lip of her tankard as she leaned over the tavern table, bright eyes beaming.

"She's the daughter of a minor noble house that was caught up in the civil war." Added Skinner, who was sitting back in her chair, arms crossed, but looking no less amused.

"I don't see how that's any of my business." Krem replied, then grunted and raised his bottle to his lips.

"Ooh, you know she's not here, he reached his mouth this time." Dalish crowed, and Krem scowled.

"That happened once." He protested, and Grimm let out what could only be described as- well, a noise. But a disbelieving one. "You aren't helping." Krem glanced away from the two smirking elves, his dark eyes flicking to the bar. It was instinct at this point. Dalish and Skinner erupted into cackling.

"Magdalena d'Aumont, mon chou." Skinner drawled, then tipped back her head to drain the last of her ale.

It was apparent that they wouldn't stop so long as he was sitting there, so Krem rose to his feet, taking his bottle with him to the bar.

"No more aggregio, 'vint." Cabot the bartender said as he wiped down the bar. "The other 'vint made off with all of it, and he won't be back until the inquisitor drags half of our forces back out of the desert."

"Come on, Cabot, you know I don't drink the fancy stuff." Krem said, rolling his shoulders back. "I'll even take a Pell red if you have it." He smiled the smile that had convinced The Iron Bull to accept a dozen sacks of rice as payment and soon he was sitting back at the Chargers' usual table, which was conspicuously empty.

Krem frowned, looking around for the telltale signs of the rest of the Chargers, but there was only the vague scent of rosewater and blood that typically accompanied Skinner.

He remained there, sipping at his wine as the sky outside went from light blue to yellow and orange, to streaked with pinks and purples, then back to blue, then black, dotted with bright white stars and streaked with pale yellow lines where the Breach had scarred the sky.

He was half asleep when he heard her laugh above the din of the tavern. He bolted upright and spotted a glimpse of golden hair. The tavern had become packed with Inquisition soldiers, half of them with cheeks flushed bright red or freckled or both from the sun of the western desert. There were so many of them that he couldn't spot her. He scrambled to his feet, then, in a move he would greatly regret later, stepped on the seat of the chair and heaved himself up to stand on top of it.

For a fleeting moment he considered that this must be what it was like to be Iron Bull, then he saw her again.

She was tall, blonde, and covered in freckles sprinkled across her forehead, cheeks, chin, and the top of her breasts. Her hips swayed as she move from table to table with her tray of drinks. She bent over to set down two tankards on a table, then straightened up, her eyes meeting Krem's. Her full lips burst into a bright smile. He felt his face grow hot and in one swift motion he vaulted off of the chair, nearly toppling it over as he sat down.

He'd gotten himself in some kind of order by the time she arrived at his table.

"Lieutenant." She said happily, "Look at you." She reached out a slender hand and stroked back the pieces of his hair that had come astray in his previous flailing. A moment later, she seemed to remember herself and pulled back her hands, clasping both of them behind her back.

For a moment they were both silent and still, the tavern noisy and bustling around them. Krem spoke first, after a small fake cough.

"Good evening, Magdalena." He said, and her eyebrows rose.

"Oh.." He was instantly confused. All at once she looked so sad. "I was certain you didn't know." She murmured almost mournfully.

"Didn't know what?" He asked, sitting up in his seat. Magdalena took a seat at the table across from him.

"I've very much enjoyed being at Skyhold." She said, her accent sounding less and less like a commoner's by the second. "No one treats me like a Lady. I serve drinks and sing songs and get ale on my skirts. No one minds. But you know.."

Krem was quiet for a moment,

"You got all that from a name?" He said finally, resisting the urge to fidget with the wine bottle.

"Everyone here calls me Maggie." She replied, smiling sheepishly.

"Maggie." Krem echoed.

"And- well. I heard your story, about where you came from in Tevinter, what happened to your family.. I felt so dreadful. I didn't want you to know that I was like that." Her head was hanging low, her golden hair spilling in waves, the tips of it falling on the table.

Krem felt a bit ill,

"I don't understand."

"I'm a noble! And you're- common. Like everyone else. You're all been so lovely to me. You're so lovely."

"Maggie." Krem said flatly. "Unless you're a rat bastard magister and have a warehouse full of slaves hidden under your skirts, you're hardly 'like that.'" He tipped his head slightly to the side. "Though you may want to avoid calling people 'common.'"

"I will try." Maggie let out a nervous laugh and reached up a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

It occurred to Krem then that she had called him lovely.

"Would you like some wine?" He asked, and she nodded.

Of course, it turned out that the bottle was empty, but Maggie managed to steal another from behind the bar, and the two snuck off into the night, fingers laced together as they darted across the grounds and as Krem helped Maggie up the ladder into the loft above the forges.

She ran her dainty fingertips over the indents in the breastplate of his armor as he removed his gauntlets.

"We've got the axe that did that." Krem said, carefully laying out the gauntlets on the ground beside him. "Grim uses it sometimes. It's a good blade."

"Not so good, if it almost got you." Maggie replied, and he laughed.

"Hardly. It'll take more than a big dog lord in a fuzzy hat to take me down." He added. Boasting felt good, comfortable, made him feel like himself, instead of like he was trying to tiptoe around her.

"My father had a set of armor made from silverite for my brother." Maggie said with a sigh. "It's hanging in the estate, or one of Gascard's dogs is wearing it. Corbin never let it have a scratch.. This, though-" She splayed out both hands across Krem's armor. This close, her hair smelled like lavender.

He tipped his chin down and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Maggie let out a happy moan and climbed eagerly into his lap. His hands went to her thighs and he slid his hands up her legs, hitching her skirt up to her hips as they kissed. She put her arms around his neck, pressing up against him.

He reached up one hand to undo the lacings at the front of her dress. Her breasts pressed against the breastplate, and she let out a soft hiss against his lips.

"I'm sorry- it's just cold-" She whispered with a soft, high giggle. Her face was flushed under all her freckles. "Let me-" She reached for one of the buckles that held his armor in place and he placed his hand over her's to stop her. Her lips fell open slightly. "I thought you wanted-"

"I do." He said earnestly, and raised a hand to cup her jaw, tilting her head to the side. She moaned as he kissed her throat, just under her jaw, whimpered when he slipped a hand into her knickers.

"Maker's breath- lace-" He breathed, and they both laughed again. She kissed him hard on the mouth, then bit his lip when he pressed the pads of two fingers to her clit. He twisted his other hand into her hair and gasped when she moved her hips against his hand.

"Lieutenant-" She whimpered,

"Krem." He bit back,

"Krem-!" Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly and she shuddered against his fingers. "Merde-" She closed her eyes tightly, the movements of her hips slowing. She slid her arms down from around her neck and rested her fingertips on his jaw, leaning in to kiss him softly on the mouth.

His gaze went from her mouth to her eyes and he smiled, then shifted to lay back, holding her to him.

She folded her hands together and rested them on his chest under her chin.

"Strange man." She said, and watched as he raised his hand to his lips, placing his fingers in his mouth.

"Are you not happy?" He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk.

"I'm very pleased." She assured him, "I've only ever been offered, how you say .. romps."

"Is this not a romp?" He asked.

"Well, you didn't bend me over anything."

The tips of his ears twinged red, and she kissed his cheek.

"Sweet man." She said, correcting herself.

They awoke the next morning to the clinking of hammers in the forge and the heat of the embers one floor beneath them. Maggie laced up her dress, kissed Krem on the cheek, and slipped down the stairs. Krem watched her sneak behind the blacksmith and out the door through a crack in the floorboards.

At the tavern, he knew Dalish and Skinner were going to be insufferable even before they opened their mouths.


End file.
